Hot for Teacher
by Chemiclord
Summary: An expansion of events leading up to the dialogue at the Start of Chapter Fourteen of the Black Eagles route. Edlegard finds herself smitten, and surprisingly has no problems acknowledging it. But fate conspires against her finding even the slightest bit of relief for her fever.
1. Chapter 1

**Hot for Teacher**

Contrary to popular belief, Edelgard von Hresvelg was keenly aware of her emotions and how she felt about most things. She wasn't an "ice queen" or even all that much of a stoic to anyone who was able to see immediately behind the careful crafted public face she presented.

Which was why she knew _exactly _what was on her mind, and why it was commanding her thoughts this night of the early Pegasus Moon.

Edelgard had always liked the young professor in some fashion, who she had figured couldn't have been much older than herself. Despite that, his expertise, talent, and natural ability to convey his knowledge that quickly earned the then-princess's earnest respect. Even as she had started to genuinely advance her plans and became more secretive, she never got the sense he judged her or distrusted her reasons. He had been a calming presence as the tension built, and she had appreciated that.

The emperor even knew _exactly _when her feelings had become to blossom into something... more.

It had probably been a very improper time for those feelings to burst, but when Rhea had demanded Byleth kill her, and instead he had defied the archbishop and instead put himself forward to defend the newly crowned emperor, her heart had swelled and began to grow to the point that she was at now.

He had no idea what Rhea truly was at the time he made the choice, and that made it mean so much more to her. Byleth hadn't defected because of fear of a great monster. He had turned because he had thought it the right thing to do; that execution for what amounted to an attempted theft was beyond a reasonable punishment.

And even when the archbishop _had _shown her monstrous self, on two separate occasions at that, Byleth had refused to stand down and "repent." Even after the second meeting had cast him to time for five years, he marched right back to the monastery, undaunted by the reality that he'd have to face down the Immaculate One a third time.

How could any hot-blooded woman _not _start to fall for that?

And Edlegard knew she was _hardly _the only one. Dorothea spent every moment Byleth wasn't looking directly at her eyeing him like he was a savory, thick flank. Petra offered to take him flying over the seas and lands of Brigid at least twice daily. Bernadetta, of all people, actually emerged from her room for the three minutes necessary to invite him for a spot of tea...

… then _willingly stayed for an entire hour in public to have that tea interval_.

Even the strike forces members poached from other houses before and after the fall of the monastery had been trying to get in on the fun. Leonie spent countless hours trying to train with him and lean on their shared knowledge of his father as a means to his heart. Lysithea had taken to what amounted to stalking him, fleeing in adolescent fright when he asked her what she was doing.

Even Mercedes – _Mercedes -_, the embodiment of sweetness and divine piousness, shamefully admitted that Byleth made her think improper and impure thoughts in a confessional made to herself at the Goddess Shrine last week.

And Edlegard couldn't blame _any _of them. If anything, the emperor was the worst of them all. Dorothea even one time cheekily mocked Eldegard for her transparency, offering Edlegard a handkerchief after a mission briefing, suggesting that the emperor wipe the drool from her chin. To be fair, Edlegard probably _had _been moistening her lips; the setting sun had caught her former teacher's hair, creating the image of seafoam splashing gently onto a beach and highlighting his striking features while the wind carried his slightly honeyed scent to her nose.

Features that she just realized she had been sketching without thinking as her mind had wandered.

Edlegard had always had talent with a pencil, though certainly nothing she cultivated beyond rough doodles or transferred to any other tools. Though she could definitely see herself trying as she looked back at the face she had sketched on the paper before her.

She had certainly done Byleth justice, his essence and beauty captured as well she could have possibly hoped for. She had even captured the subtle details that only those who knew him well could see. To the uninitiated, they would never see the playful flash that would rarely appear in his normally stern, deliberate eyes. The ever so slight hint of a smile on the edges of his normally tight lips and firmly set jaw. The point of his chin that would form an adorable dimple right in the cleft whenever he was confused.

Her thoughts drifted further down, to places her pencil hadn't defined. His surprisingly broad shoulders, and how easily they had supported her when she was wounded, tired, and beaten fleeing from the archbishop after the failed attempt at the crests.

His toned and strong arms, that she had seen grasping huge blocks of rubble as he helped clear out damaged portions of the monastery, arms that had been in her fantasies holding her tightly as he whispered sweet promises of pleasure in her ear.

She could feel the heat building between her thighs, and her right hand slipped down to meet the pooling warmth as she envisioned his well sculpted chest, that she yearned to have pressed against hers, with not even air between them. Broad, angular hips and powerful legs, that she desired painfully to be entwined with hers as he...

"Ahem."

The attention grabbing cough jerked her back to reality, and she became keenly aware of the bright flush on her cheeks. Her head whipped in embarrassment towards Hubert, as he slowly closed her chamber door and calmly chided, "If you are going to engage in... self-care, I would suggest you lock your door."

Edlegard doubted her angry glare was the slightest bit intimidating considering her face had to have been red as a tomato. "To what do I owe this visit, my friend?"

The dark mage refused to betray any semblance of emotion. "I had come in regards to our tactician, and I see that it is a discussion that we must have." He sat down in a stool at the foot of her bed, and informed her, "To be frank, your affections are hardly discreet. Even Caspar has noticed, and that man couldn't find a clue if you gave him a map, a compass, and pointed to the X on the ground."

Trying to put him on the defensive, the emperor asked haughtily, "Jealous, are you?"

Edlegard knew she was being unfair as her words cut the air. Both her and Hubert were aware of the dark mage's affections, and Edlegard knew they weren't of the traditional romantic variety in any significant way. It was more of a devotion than a passion. He loved her, but not in the way that a man loves a woman; more like the way that a follower loves a goddess.

Well... maybe not _quite _that severe, but close enough for the dynamic the two had.

Hubert leveled the closest to an angry eye at her than she had ever seen. "Very," he admitted readily, "But that is irrelevant. You have made your choice, and despite my reservations, I... cannot _entirely _fault you."

Now _this _was a development she was not aware of. Through much of the time Byleth was in her presence, Hubert's opinion of the professor was... lacking, to put it diplomatically. It had taken considerable time to get the dark mage to admit Byleth's skill and talents in managing a battlefield, but Hubert's opinion on the man himself had not seemed to budge over many years.

"Oh?" she finally said simply, so astonished that she really couldn't find any other word to form on her tongue.

"He is both equal parts coldly practical and yet irredeemably noble. Normally, the latter would cause far more trouble than the former could counteract, yet somehow in Byleth they have formed an alchemy that manages to make the right choice that accomplishes our goals with only the necessary amount of bloodshed."

Hubert was almost assuredly referring to the Battle of Derdriu, and Byleth's decisions to accept Lysithea's battlefield defection _and _spare Claude. Both decisions on their face would have been _insane _for an invading force to consider. But Claude _had _been a remarkably sound ally from the shadows wherever he was hiding, with mysterious supplies and trade routes appearing with seemingly no reason. Meanwhile, Lysithea had been nothing but an exceptional addition to the roster, with Hubert himself satisfied that she was not harboring any duplicity.

Both decisions had, perhaps against all rationality, been much needed boons for a war machine that needed resources and might for the battles ahead. But at the same time, Edlegard had not made any objections to either choice, trusting Byleth's judgment and coming to agree with them fairly quickly, so she found it hard to be critical of her former teacher.

"Do you know who that reminds me of, my lady?" Hubert asked.

Edlegard shook her head.

"You."

The emperor's eyes widened. "Me?"

"You hide it better than he does, but you have that same irritating nobility that occasionally pokes its head at moments where all reason would have you act more ruthlessly. While Byleth indisputably encourages it more with just his presence, it's something that exists without him. You are... kindred spirits, I must acknowledge reluctantly."

The hint of discomfort in the dark mage's voice drew a cheeky grin across Edlegard's lips. "My oh my, is my closest confidante actually giving his _blessing?_"

That line earned her a cross, irritated glare. "What I am trying to say, perhaps poorly, is that you and Byleth are walking the same path. As long as you do, he will be your strongest sword, and your sturdiest shield."

Hubert stood, suggesting he was done with his attempted lecture. "But, if or when your paths diverge, I will be there to correct him. Permanently, if need be."

Edlegard found that deathly boast more amusing than reassuring. "More likely he'll be waiting, blade ready, to show you the folly of your actions. I do suspect you would have to kill him fifteen times before he kills you once. Not even you could possibly like those odds."

That the dark mage didn't have an response for that other than an annoyed grunt, telling Edlegard both that she was right, and that Hubert knew it. Finally he opened her door, stepped into the threshold, then said darkly, "I... will leave you to continue your... self-care." He closed the door with surprising quietness, and she could hear his footsteps fade into the night.

Continue her "self-care." Edlegard scoffed at the idea after Hubert's metaphorical bucket of ice water had been dumped over her. But when she turned back to the drawing she had mindlessly scrawled, to her surprise she could feel the warmth in her gut bubbling again and starting to drift down, carnal thoughts once more forming into shape unbidden in her imagination...

…

At least, until the gnarled tailed rat scampered over her hands and across her desk.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: There's no real attempt at a "harem" fic here. In fact, I had every intent of ending at a one-shot bit. The entire bit about Byleth's many admirers was more of an observation as to how easy it is to get A and S supports in this game without any particular effort on the player's part._

**Chapter Two**

The rat scuttled quickly off her desk and under her door before she could even recover from her burst of panic, much less do anything about the vermin. How had it even _gotten _on her desk in the first place? Had it climbed up there? Had it fallen from above? If so, why hadn't she noticed?

Okay, the answer to that last question was _very _easy. A powder keg could have probably gone off across the dormitory hall and she probably wouldn't have noticed with her level of... distraction.

She stood up, desperately trying to still her racing heart, telling herself that her heightened heart rate was simply because of that damned rat.

Edlegard had _never _been very good at lying to herself.

And it certainly didn't help at the slightest when the _real _reason for her quickened pulse pushed his way into the room, concern melting into relief when he saw that she was physically unharmed, at least.

For a moment, the emperor was flattered and touched by that concern, then the gears in her brain locked up as she connected him to the situation.

Oh no.

This was in fact very, very _bad._ Byleth was the _last _person she wanted to see in her current state. At least... a part of her thought so. Her libido strenuously disagreed with that appraisal, and had a much different response to the professor's arrival, as heat flared in between her legs and spread that warmth all the way to her face. While she felt she managed to fight it down to a brush of pink across her cheeks, the last thing she needed in the next few minutes was to be fighting her own treasonous womanhood.

Eyes wide with existential terror, Edelgard managed to rein in her voice to a nervous whimper. "Professor! You didn't hear anything just now... did you?"

Byleth, damn him, was playing the part that she admired him for to perfection, asking her respectfully, "Are you okay?"

She put on her bravest face, and said with such insincerity that it didn't even fool herself, "Of course I am! It's nothing... nothing at all." Damn it. She just had to get him out of here before she embarrassed herself further. That's all she had to do, and she was failing miserably.

_Or I could throw myself into his arms, and let him comfort my emotional trauma!_

_ NO! No comforting! Not tonight!_

_ Why not?_

_ Because I said so! Now be still, randy womanhood!_

Not even Edelgard was surprised that Byleth accepted that dismissal on its face. Instead, his concern deepened, and he pressed, "Are you sure about that?"

"I told you it was nothing and I meant it," she insisted, even as internally she groaned. She sounded more like a petulant child than a formidable leader.

_Not even one little hug?_

_ Absolutely NOT._

_ But... why?_

_ Because I want more than a hug, and I damn well know it._

Byleth cocked his right eyebrow so subtly that anyone who hadn't studied his face nigh religiously would might not have noticed. Unfortunately for Edlegard, she had studied his face with more attention than any book in her library. His concern was melting her resolve to shove him out the door. He deserved an explanation. _Something_ at least.

Her mind raced to compose at least part of the truth that he'd be able to accept that wouldn't mortify her. She found one, a very convincing one that probably would have been the absolute and whole truth under most circumstances.

"It's just... well, there was a rat. I don't enjoy the company of rats," she said, a hint of distress leaking into her voice. "I believe I've told you about this before. About when I was held captive beneath the palace."

He nodded solemly. Thank the goddess he was accepting this. That terror was _nothing _compared to having to come clean about what _really _had her this flustered and bothered. She covered part of her face with her left hand, helping her shroud her blush as an added bonus. "There were a lot of rats there. To this day, I just..."

Thinking about the rats in her dungeon cell actually _did _start to distress her. That little beast had been close enough to bite her, and do so many times before she reacted, much like the vermin that nipped at her bound body trying to decide if she could pass as food beneath the Kingdom's palace. Edlegard was now trying to fight back an entirely different reason for shuddering, and she was beginning to regret thinking this would be the _better _road to travel.

At least... until Byleth asked with confusion, which she knew because she saw that adorable dimple form in his chin, "What's that?"

She followed the path of his eyes, and every single nerve in her body locked up painfully, and that nervous petrification was about the only reason she didn't scream like she was being murdered. Her portrait sketch of him was still very visibly at the top of the stack of paper on her desk, clear as if she had shoved it in front of him.

Frantically she asked, "What?" like it wasn't painfully obvious what he was referring to. Panic set in, and the emperor's already flimsy resolve shattered. She started clutching desperately at any excuse that bubbled to the top of her flustered mind.

"Oh! Professor! Leave here at once!" She said with all the authority she felt, which at that point was below none. "I recall now that Hubert needs to speak with me."

_He probably saw Hubert walking away from my room before I shrieked. That's not going to work._

_ I could be honest and tell him that I am absolutely smitten with his beautiful face._

_ That is NOT an option!_

She reached for the next idea. "I must change my clothes. Now."

_Oh, that's a very good idea! I agree wholeheartedly! Undress! Right now! Tell him to do it too!_

_ DAMN IT!_

The last thing she needed at this moment was her libido being more clever than her reason, and speaking for her.

She gestured grandly, left hand out as if it would obstruct his vision in any meaningful way. "Whatever you do, don't look this way!"

It was almost as if all the composure that was bleeding off of Edlegard was feeding into Byleth. The smirk that she had admired just moments before teased the left corner of his lips. "I already saw it..."

Another frantic flourish from the flustered emperor heralded her rosy pink blush and rattled voice. "Aah! Then forget what you saw! That's an order!"

Byleth didn't immediately respond, but she could tell that he was _immensely _amused by her discomfort. When she had regained her wits, she would have to remind him just who was in charge, and that she wouldn't tolerate any disrespect.

The smirk vanished, but the playful spark that flashed across his eye betrayed his true feelings even as his voice did not. "Very well, my lady. Consider it forgotten. Try and rest. I'll see you in the morning."

The professor turned about on his heel, left without further comment or incident, and closed the door behind him. At that point, all the tension dripped out of Edlegard, and her thighs started shaking with a mix of fatigue and embarrassment.

That battle with herself had absolutely _drained _her like she had run through the whole of the monastery at a full sprint. She honestly felt more tired than in any battle she had ever fought. Sweat dripped liberally off her brow, and it was with those weak, trembling legs that she finally had the wherewithal to lock the door and hopefully end any more late night visitors.

She dropped her head against the door, exhausted and panting. At least any worries of sleeplessness she had was gone. As soon as she stumbled into her bed, she'd probably pass out straight away.

_He wasn't upset. About the portrait._

Eldegard blinked repeatedly at the unbidden thought. She was right, he hadn't been. If anything, hidden carefully behind the amusement he had displayed, he seemed... flattered.

_Maybe... just maybe... these feelings aren't one-sided?_

_ Do... do I dare dream that my old teacher sees me as more than an old student?_

She betrayed a dreamy smile on her tired face. Even if he did, now truly wasn't the time to entertain such thoughts. There was too many more important things to worry about. Perhaps, when the near and present dangers to her rule and the continent were resting at her feet, she could bare her soul, and let fate cast its lot.

But until that time... well... there was "self-care."


End file.
